


Reemerging Daylight

by Pandora151



Series: The Journey of the Lights [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Fluff, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Temple, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Obi-Wan Needs a Hug, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 22:06:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7862911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandora151/pseuds/Pandora151
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan, still struggling with the death of Qui-Gon Jinn, collapses under the pressure of being a new Knight as well as a Master to an unusual Padawan. Anakin watches him fall and begins to understand his new master so much more. Set two weeks after the events of The Phantom Menace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reemerging Daylight

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on ff.net on 08/23/16, under same username.

** Reemerging Daylight **

 

 

Breathing heavily, Anakin used the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his forehead.  He wanted nothing more than to sleep at least until the next afternoon right at the moment, but saying that to his master would probably not be a great idea.  They were in one of the Temple’s bigger training rooms, both using the lighter training sabers, at the lowest power setting.  Obi-Wan had demonstrated ten different Shii-Cho katas that he wanted Anakin to learn and immediately replicate before they could leave.  Despite the not-so-great food at the Temple cafeterias, Anakin would do almost anything to be eating there right now.  He sighed in exhaustion.

Obi-Wan frowned and quickly pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, wincing slightly.  “Three more katas, Anakin.  Twenty repetitions for each one, and then we can leave.  Do not rush, and make sure each movement is smooth and precise.  Let the Force guide you, don’t bend it to your will,” he instructed, leaning back against the wall behind him and crossing his arms.

Anakin nodded in response, barely repressing the urge to sigh once again.  _If Master Qui-Gon were here,_ Anakin thought, _he would not have made me do all this work on an empty stomach_.  He saw Obi-Wan’s eyes narrow slightly, and he wondered, not for the first time, if his master could hear some of his thoughts through their very new training bond.  He wondered, not for the first time, why Obi-Wan was so mean to him all the time.  It wasn’t fair.

Anakin took a deep breath, trying to remember the exact sequence for the particular kata he was to perform, but he was _exhausted_.  They have been training for hours and hours now, and he was sweaty and his body ached and he was hungry.  It wasn’t fair that Obi-Wan was making him do all this work this late at night when all the other kids his age were eating and relaxing.

He felt the Force around him, calling to him and guiding him as he began.  The training lightsaber hummed as he moved it slowly through the motions.  He tried to focus on the Force as he moved, but something felt…off.  It was as though the Force was trying to tell him something.  Something important.  Before he could focus on it further, he tripped and fell on his front to the ground.  His training lightsaber immediately powered down as he fell, clattering to the ground next to him.

Anakin quickly got to his feet and picked up his saber as Obi-Wan moved to the center of the room to stand before him.  The lights were dimmed, but now that he was closer, Anakin could tell that his master might be more tired than he was.  Obi-Wan had dark smudges under his reddened eyes.  Anakin waited for him to say something, but his master only stared at him with an unreadable expression on his pale face.  “Master?” Anakin asked finally, impatient.

Obi-Wan blinked and briefly rubbed at his left temple with his left hand.  “Anakin,” he sighed, “you cannot allow yourself to get distracted.  You are focusing on performing the kata as a whole instead of a connection of each of the specific movements involved.  Each movement must be guided by the Force.”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin responded.

“I’ll demonstrate this one to you and then you can begin,” Obi-Wan told him, and Anakin nodded as he took a few steps back to give Obi-Wan some space.  Anakin watched as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply before powering on the training lightsaber.

Even though it has only been two weeks since he became Obi-Wan’s padawan, Anakin still was amazed by his master’s skill with a lightsaber.  The lightsaber truly was an extension of a Jedi, Anakin realized.  Obi-Wan performed the kata with his eyes closed for the whole time, his movements completely sure and precise but slow.  The training saber hummed as it moved smoothly through the air.

Finally, Obi-Wan finished, lowering the saber and powering it down as he opened his eyes.  “Your turn, padawan,” he said, rubbing at his forehead again as he began to move towards the wall where he stood earlier.  Anakin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and relaxing every single cell in his body.  The Force surrounded him again, singing to him harmoniously even more than before, and suddenly everything seemed so clear, almost as clear as it will ever be—

There was a loud crash and Anakin’s eyes immediately flew open and the Force was suddenly shouting at him and he was overwhelmed and confused all at once.  Obi-Wan was collapsed sideways, both hands trembling as they attempted to support him.  “Master!” Anakin gasped, running to his side.

Pulling himself up slightly, Obi-Wan placed a trembling hand on Anakin’s shoulder.  This was just…Anakin’s never seen his master like this…he was always so stoic, so calm and composed.  What was happening?  Anakin felt a stirring of an unfamiliar emotion, of unadulterated _panic_ , deep in his chest.  He felt like he was drowning, like he couldn’t breathe…

“Anakin, listen to me.”  Anakin blinked, forcing himself to breathe and calm down, at least momentarily.  Now that Anakin was looking directly at Obi-Wan’s face, he could tell that something most definitely was wrong.  His master’s face was dotted with sweat and his breaths came in quick gasps.  He was still blinking slowly, as though he couldn’t see him clearly.  Obi-Wan’s eyes, normally a luminous sea-blue, were a dull grey.  “You remember where the Halls of Healing is, yes?”  He didn’t wait for Anakin’s response.  “Go there and ask for—” He broke himself off with a sharp groan, pressing his right hand to the side of his head.  He took a few deep breaths as Anakin watched, stunned to silence.  “Ask for Bant Eerin.  Tell her I’m asking her to come.  She’ll understand,” he whispered.  The hand pressed to his head shifted to cover his face and he continued breathing raggedly.

“I can’t just leave you like this, Master,” Anakin protested feebly.

“Padawan, listen to me, for once,” was Obi-Wan’s muffled reply.

And so he did.  Anakin ran through the halls of the Temple, hoping he remembered how to get to the healer’s without actually stopping to think about it.  As he turned the corner and saw (to his relief) the door the healing ward, he ran faster, thinking of his Master collapsed in the center of the training room, quickly opened the door and raced to the desk ahead of him.  There was little time to waste.

* * *

Bant ran into the training room, racing to the crumpled figure in the center of the domed room.  Obi-Wan lay on his side, with a hand pressed to cover his face while the other arm was wrapped around his middle.

“Obi, I’m here,” she murmured softly, placing a gentle hand on his arm and carefully rolling him onto his back.  His face was completely white and covered with sweat, she noted with some concern.  He groaned in response.  “Can you sit up?” she asked him, but he slowly shook his head, groaning at the movement.

“Dizzy,” he mumbled.

“This should help,” she told him before injecting an antiemetic into his neck.  He groaned again before opening his eyes to look at her briefly before squeezing them shut.  His eyes were quite red.  This was bad, Bant realized.

“Hurts,” he said, continuing to communicate with one-word answers.  He began to sit up, but gagged as his stomach violently protested the movement.  Bant immediately pulled a plastic bag out of her medical bag and held it to his mouth.  _The drug doesn’t seem to be working_ , she thought.  A few seconds passed and then he retched into the bag.  Bant winced.

“I don’t think it’s usually this bad, Obi,” the Mon Calamari said bluntly.  “I know you won’t like this, but we’ll have to admit you until it passes,” she told him.

“No, Bant,” he gasped, then vomited again.  She rubbed his back soothingly until he stopped.  He was sitting up now, but he was trembling quite a lot.  “Ana—anakin…”

“Someone else can take care of him for the next few days, Obi-Wan.  You can’t even sit up properly,” she said.  “Compared to the previous ones, how bad is it?” she asked.  “Be honest, Kenobi,” she scolded, fully aware of his tendency to lie about his own health.

“I…” He paused to take a few breaths.  “I don’t recall it ever being this bad,” he admitted quickly, groaning and covering his eyes with a trembling hand.  She took a few seconds to think about his response, amazed that he would actually speak the truth this time.

“I’m going to have to comm someone to send a stretcher,” she told him gently, “There’s no way you can walk right now.  Not like this.”  The fact that he didn’t reply terrified her.  Usually he would just insist he was fine.  She pushed him gently back to the ground.  “Lie down,” she instructed, “try to get some sleep.  I’ll worry about your transportation.”

“Hurts too much to sleep,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and trying to take deep breaths.  She shushed him, pressing a button on the communicator on her wrist that sent an automatic request for a stretcher at her location.  The stretcher would take some time to arrive, however.  She studied him carefully for the next few minutes, trying to figure out which symptoms were most prominent and if anything can be done right now.

“Is Anakin at the healer’s?” he mumbled, to her surprise.  He continued breathing in ragged gasps, groaning every so often.

“Yes.  He’s very worried,” Bant responded.  “He is a sweet boy,” she told him.

Obi-Wan snorted, then moaned, shifting slightly.  She shushed him, telling him to lie still.  “He d-didn’t eat dinner yet,” he whispered.  “We were supposed to eat afterwards,” he added.  She was amazed that despite being in this much pain, Obi-Wan was more concerned about his Padawan than himself.  She smiled at him, knowing that he probably couldn’t see her clearly.

“Relax, I’ll take care of it,” she told him as the door opened.  Some light streamed into the darkened training room, and Obi-Wan flinched, turning away.  “Okay, Kenobi, let’s get you out of here,” she declared as the stretcher came to a stop next to him.

* * *

Anakin watched with wide eyes as Healer Eerin returned with a hover-stretcher floating next to her.  Without a glance at Anakin, she (and the stretcher) made her way to the door leading to the treatment rooms.  Anakin jumped to his feet, meaning to run over to his Master, to see him smile assuredly at him and say that everything was fine.  The nonmoving figure lying on the stretcher was turned away from him, but Anakin  _needed_ to see that Obi-Wan was fine. He  _needed_ him.

“Anakin, stay here.  Healer Eerin will call you once everything is settled,” the girl sitting behind the front desk said.  He turned towards the door to the treatment rooms, realizing that both the healer and the stretcher were gone.  Anakin took a few deep breaths, wanting to give in to his building anger and yell at the girl, but he nodded stiffly and sat back down.  A few minutes passed, and Anakin’s increasing anxiety was slowly overwhelming him.  _Trust in the Force_ , his master would say whenever Anakin felt overwhelmed by his emotions.  So Anakin took a few calming breaths and tried, despite his own beliefs on the effectiveness of the Force in these types of situations.  He closed his eyes.

“Anakin?”

He opened his eyes.  He wasn’t sure how much time has passed.  Healer Eerin stood in front of him with a tray of food.  His stomach grumbled in response, and she chuckled.  “Your Master told me you haven’t eaten,” she said, handing him the tray and sitting down next to him, “You can see him after you finish eating.”

“But what’s wrong with him?” Anakin asked, but Healer Eerin shook her head and motioned at the tray.

He sighed and obediently began picking at his food with his fork, not feeling all that hungry anymore.  He was just too scared.  Healer Eerin must have noticed this, because she said, “I’m not letting you see him until every morsel is gone, Anakin.”  He sighed and began to eat, albeit slowly.  He was almost done eating a few minutes later when a loud scream echoed through the ward.  Healer Eerin gasped, and whispered, “Oh, no, Obi…” She jumped to her feet and dashed towards the treatment rooms.  Without a second thought, Anakin followed, ignoring the calls of the girl behind the front desk and leaving the tray behind.  His master was screaming.

Healer Eerin led him to the second door on the right, and she rushed in, immediately kneeling at Obi-Wan’s side and gripping his shoulder.  Anakin stopped at the door, staring at the scene in complete shock.  Obi-Wan, Anakin’s calm, collected mentor, who always somehow _knew_ what to say in any kind of situation, was thrashing on the bed, clearly in the throes of a horrid nightmare.  Anakin’s hand covered his mouth in shock, feeling cold tears roll down his cheeks.  The other hand tightly gripped the doorframe for support.

“No!” Obi-Wan screamed, openly crying from the dream.  “Master, no!” he cried, and Anakin felt his heart twist at the broken sound of his Master’s voice.

Healer Eerin began to shake him, lightly.  “Obi, wake up; it’s just a dream!” she shouted. Obi-Wan writhed and wailed in response, but she kept going.  “Obi-Wan, it’s all over, you’re just dreaming.  Wake up!” she cried, shaking him a bit harder.

Obi-Wan’s eyes flew open and he gasped, covering his eyes with a trembling hand and turning on his side.  “I think I’m going to be sick, Bant,” Obi-Wan whispered, unaware of Anakin’s presence.  Healer Eerin just barely placed a bucket near his mouth in time.  Obi-Wan vomited loudly then fell back on the bed, utterly spent.

“You need to sleep, Obi-Wan,” the healer insisted.  She gripped his shoulder, fully intending on giving him a Force suggestion to sleep until the next morning, but Obi-Wan moved out of her grip.

“No, please,” he whispered, and groaned, curling up on his side and covering his face with a palm.  Anakin felt as though he was frozen in place.  He wanted to speak, to say _something_ , but his voice felt stuck in his throat.

“Obi-Wan, have you slept at all since Naboo?” Healer Eerin asked soothingly, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“I…” he breathed, exhausted.  “My head is killing me, Bant,” he groaned.

“I know, Obi,” Healer Eerin responded, and swiftly grabbed his shoulder before Obi-Wan can move out of the way.  “Sleep,” she commanded, using the Force to push him into a deep slumber.  The Jedi Knight sank into the bed, fast asleep.  Without turning around, Bant spoke to Anakin.  “I’m sorry you had to see that, Anakin,” she said softly, “It must be highly unsettling.”

Anakin nodded, still unable to speak and realizing that she couldn’t see him since her back was to him.  “Yes, it is, Healer Eerin,” he whispered, taking another step into the room. 

Bant snorted.  “There’s no need for that, Anakin.  Your master is one of my best friends, you can call me Bant, like he does,” she said, turning and smiling at him.  She motioned towards the chair next to her.  “Take a seat,” she said calmly.

Anakin glanced at his Master, completely still and unaware of his surroundings.  “He won’t dream this time, Anakin,” Bant told him as he sat down in the offered chair.  She sat across him.  “Before we left the training room, I gave him a sedative to help him sleep, but it didn’t work very well.  I had to use a Force suggestion this time.  He’s deeply asleep now.”  She glanced at Obi-Wan and took a deep breath.  “I suppose I should tell you what’s happening,” Bant sighed.  “Since he has been about your age, he’s been getting these severe headaches,” she began.  “Migraines.”

“I think I’ve heard that word before,” Anakin commented.  “I don’t know exactly what it means, though,” he said.

“They’re really bad headaches, Anakin.  Obi-Wan sometimes gets really nauseous from them, but it seems worse this time.  I suspect it’s because he hasn’t slept properly since taking you as his padawan and he’s been overworking himself,” she continued.  “Master Qui-Gon used to help him through these before, but…” She bit her lip.  “There’s something you need to understand, Anakin,” Bant said with a sigh, “Not even three weeks ago, your master was a padawan himself.  I understand that you probably miss your family and your home planet, and this sudden change, being here at the Temple, must have been excruciatingly difficult for you.  This is just as difficult for him, if not more.”

“He’s never talked about these things.  He never _wants_ to talk about anything related to Master Qui-Gon,” Anakin realized, glancing back at his Master again.

“He won’t, unless you approach him about it,” Bant responded.  “Obi-Wan is quite a private person, or at least he is until you get to know him better.  Over time, I expect you will learn to notice when these migraines are coming.  If you catch them early and have him sleep it off, they won’t be much of an issue, Anakin.”

“But…” Anakin paused.  “Why didn’t he do that this time?”

“My guess is that he was hoping to deal with it himself without having to worry you, but he put it off for too long and it overwhelmed him,” Bant admitted, shuddering.  “This is much worse than usual.  This will be difficult without Master Jinn, but I think you can help him, Anakin,” she told him.

Anakin shook his head.  “How can I? I don’t even think he likes me that much, to be honest,” he admitted.

Bant sighed.  “This is something you need to talk about with him, not with me.  If you’re feeling this way, you both need to talk about this as soon as possible.  A Master-Padawan bond must be based entirely on trust and communication.  You should not be scared to talk to your master, Anakin,” she told him bluntly.  She stood up from her seat.  “It’s getting late.  I’ll drop you back to your quarters and contact the Council about getting someone else to train with you for the next few days.  Will you be alright on your own for the night?” she asked.

“Um…yeah, I suppose,” Anakin answered, praying that his nightmares will not come tonight, when Obi-Wan wasn’t there.  “Can I see him before my first class tomorrow?” he asked.

Bant looked at Obi-Wan and smiled.  “I don’t know if he will be awake by then, but you’re most welcome to visit, Anakin.  I think it would do him some good,” she said.

“Thank you, Healer Eerin,” Anakin stated, and they left the treatment room.

* * *

 It was much too bright.

Obi-Wan Kenobi made the mistake of opening his eyes, and immediately, bright lights slammed into his vision.  He squeezed his eyes shut against the brightness and groaned.  His head was throbbing, _everywhere_ , his stomach was performing nauseating flips on its own, and everything just felt too uncomfortable all at once.  Something…or rather, _someone_ was moving around the room, but he couldn’t summon the energy to open his eyes again, especially since it was too bright anyways.

“Open your eyes, Obi,” a voice said gently. 

He struggled to obey; his eyelids felt like they were being held down with lead weights.  Finally, he managed to pry them open again and the room was thankfully engulfed in darkness this time, though the pain remained.  There was someone kneeling right next to him, he realized, and he squinted.  “Bant?” he muttered.  His vision was all blurry for some odd reason, so he couldn’t be sure.  She smiled back at him.

“Look who’s here,” she responded cheerfully, motioning to the doorway.  Someone was standing there, someone sort of small, clinging to the frame of the doorway as though it were a lifeline.  He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, but the figure remained stubbornly blurry, like a shadow.

“Master?” No, that sounded like Anakin’s voice.  Why would he…?

Obi-Wan immediately struggled to sit up properly, but the world suddenly tilted and spun around him and he felt like someone was harshly slamming a metal hammer against his head.  Repeatedly.  Something, or someone, must have grabbed his arms as he reeled, and he gasped at the shock of coldness from the touch.  The world stopped swinging around him, and he blinked a few times again.  Bant’s face swam into view on his right, her eyes wide in concern, but on his left was Anakin.

“Padawan,” Obi-Wan breathed, trying to smile at him but failing.  “I’m sorry, Anakin,” he managed, unsure of what else to say.  It was difficult to make out the boy’s expression, but there was no reply, and somehow, his heart dropped to his stomach and he felt even more nauseous than before.  _I’ve failed you, Master_ , he thought for probably the millionth time since Naboo.

Bant broke the awkward silence that followed.  “Anakin, you probably should get going if you don’t want to be late for class,” she told the boy.  Anakin nodded and immediately turned and _ran_ from the room.  Obi-Wan felt his heart clench at the sight and he closed his eyes in anguish.

“We have a lot to talk about, if you’re up for it,” Bant commented, and Obi-Wan opened his eyes again, forcing himself to focus on the here and now instead of Anakin, or Naboo, or anything else.  She took his silence as acceptance and continued.  “Let’s start with the easy questions first.  How are you feeling?” she asked.

He took a moment to look inward, focus on whatever damage he has acquired recently.  It definitely felt like someone was still swinging that damned metal hammer against his head and he was still quite dizzy.  His vision was still quite blurry and although the lights were now off in the room, the sunlight streaming in through the curtains stabbed at his eyes and brain.  But yesterday – just the thought of it, the reminder of it, made the pain almost worse – was bad, to say the least.  His headaches were never that bad, and he hoped never to experience something like that again, but he probably will, knowing his luck (a Jedi was not supposed to believe in luck, but Obi-Wan refused to believe that these headaches were the will of the Force).

“Better, I think,” he managed.  His voice was too hoarse, and he cleared his throat a few times.  Bant, ever so observant, pressed a glass of water to his mouth, telling him to drink slowly.  “I don’t remember yesterday very well,” he continued after taking a few sips.  Bant set the glass on the counter next to her.  “I was…I remember I was training Anakin, and I told him we could leave once he finished all the katas I assigned him.  And then…” he trailed off, reeling forward and grabbing his head tightly as the hammer slamming mercilessly into his head swung even harder.  He gasped at the suddenness of the pain.

* * *

Bant grabbed his arms again, noting that the merciless pain was getting even worse.  “Easy, Obi,” she murmured, helping him lean back on the bed and relax.  “While you were training with Anakin last night, you collapsed.  You told him to get me.  You were not well enough to take care of this yourself; so I had to admit you here.  I had to use a Force suggestion to get you to sleep, Obi,” she recalled, frowning at him.  “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Obi-Wan blinked a few times, as though he was struggling against the harsh waves of pain.  “I…what?” he mumbled, trying to focus on what Bant was saying.

“Obi-Wan, listen to me,” Bant said firmly, causing him to look up at her, his ocean eyes suddenly sharp and bright again.  “It really looks like you haven’t been sleeping.  Please, tell me the truth.  Have you slept since Naboo?”  When she asked this yesterday, he was able to dodge the question completely and she used a Force compulsion to give him some well-deserved rest, but she needed her answer.  “I’m asking you as a friend, Obi, not as your healer,” she told him.

His eyes clouded over almost instantly, and though his expression remained neutral, there was some unidentifiable tumultuous emotion in his eyes that almost terrified her.  She knew about the rumors, how Obi-Wan defeated the very same Sith monster who killed his own master.  She heard the whispers about the famed Sith Killer, ever so ruthless and callous with a lightsaber, with the Force.  But, she refused to believe any of it.  Obi-Wan was her friend; he wasn’t some heartless murderer.

“Too restless,” he mumbled.  “Anakin’s a lot to put up with as it is, so that takes up most of the night already.  Even on the nights when there is time, I just…can’t,” he whispered.  “Why can’t I, Bant?”  His eyes were usually so difficult for her to read, but with his emotional shields partially down, she could see the raw agony and confusion in them.

“I’ll help you, Obi,” she promised, gently rubbing his shoulder.  “You know that you can always talk to me, right?  Or if you need help with anything, I’m always here.  So is Garen and Reeft.  They’re both away right now, on missions, but they’re worried about you, as am I,” she told him quickly.  She didn’t know if he completely understood every word she was saying, but she needed to get this off her chest, regardless of whether he heard or not.

“That means a lot, Bant,” he said with a fake smile.

“I’m going to arrange for some light soup, Obi.  You need to eat,” she insisted.  “I know your stomach doesn’t feel great, and I’m sorry, but you haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, according to Anakin.”

He frowned at his apprentice’s name.  “I failed him, Bant,” he whispered, completely ignoring her comment about food.  “Anakin and Qui-Gon both.  I _promised_ him!  He was dying, and instead of saying goodbye, he told me to train his ‘Chosen One.’  I spent 12 years with him, Bant, and he just said nothing about it, as though it never even mattered to him…I’m barely even a Knight; what do I know about training a padawan?” he shouted, then gripped his head again with a loud choking sound, as though the pain increased with every word he spoke.

Bant frowned, and refilled the glass with more water.  She handed him the glass along with the capsule sitting on the counter.  “Painkiller,” she explained, though this was the same painkiller she always gave him when this happened, and he probably can recognize it at this point.  He swallowed the medicine obediently, and she smiled at him, despite how fake and _wrong_ it felt.  “I’m going to see about that soup now, and then after you eat, you’re going to take a nap,” she commanded.

* * *

Anakin walked slowly back to the apartment he shared with his Master, exhausted.  Despite his size, Master Yoda was fast and powerful with a lightsaber, and he found himself  _surprised_ at how easily he tired against the much older Master.  Never mind the fact that Yoda was hitting him repeatedly with that gimer stick of his.  He probably doesn’t even need it for walking, Anakin decided, it was just an excuse to always have something to hit others with.

He finally reached the door and keyed in the code to unlock the door.  With a pleasant beep, the door unlocked, and he pushed it open.  He dropped his bag to the side of the door, and nearly jumped all the way to the ceiling at the sound of someone’s voice.

“Hello, Anakin!” Bant called.  He turned around quickly, heart racing.  She was sitting on the couch, holding a steaming mug of tea, sitting next to…his master.  Obi-Wan looked much better than he did this morning.  His color was nearly back to normal and he seemed much more relaxed than before.  Anakin walked slowly towards them.

“You surprised me,” Anakin exclaimed, “I was going to clean up a bit and then come to visit you.  I didn’t realize that…”

“That I would let him leave?” Bant smiled. 

Obi-Wan had not said anything yet, but he managed a small smile as well.  “How are you feeling, Master?” Anakin asked.

“Tired, I think,” Obi-Wan answered, “Everything’s so muddled.”  He sighed and put down his mug of tea on the table next to him.  He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a few deep breaths before opening his eyes again.  “Bant, if you don’t mind, I would like to speak to my padawan alone,” he requested.

“I’ll head out, then,” she responded, standing.  “Will you two be okay for the night?” she asked. 

“Yes, thank you,” Obi-Wan said sincerely.  He made to stand up, but Bant shook her head at him.

“Don’t overwork yourself, Obi-Wan, I’ll see myself out.  Just take care of yourself, both of you,” she smiled, then glanced at Anakin, who smiled back.  “I left dinner on the stove in the kitchen.  You better eat, Obi-Wan, or I’ll convince Master Vokara Che to bring you back to the healing ward.  And at least _try_ to get some sleep.  I don’t care what Master Yoda says about trying,” she said before he could interrupt.  The Mon Calamari made her way to the front door and left the apartment.  With a soft sigh of relief, Anakin sat in the armchair across from his master.

“How was your day, Padawan?” Obi-Wan asked, picking up the mug again.

“Alright, I suppose,” Anakin answered.  “I have a lot of homework to do, ‘cause I didn’t really do any yesterday.  You don’t have to help me, though, Master.  I think I can figure it out.  Maybe,” he rambled.

Obi-Wan chuckled lightly and sipped at the tea.  “I don’t mind, Padawan,” he said simply.  “Though I’m afraid Bant has put me on medical leave for tomorrow as well, so someone else will be teaching you.  Who taught you today?” he asked.

“Master Yoda,” Anakin responded.

“And how many times did he hit you with the gimer stick?” Obi-Wan asked with an amused smile.

“I lost track after twenty,” Anakin pouted, “And it _hurts_!  I have the bruises to prove it.”

They both fell silent afterwards.  Anakin wanted to talk about what happened and why he couldn’t bring himself to say anything to Obi-Wan that morning, but he had no idea what to say or how to say it.

“I’m sorry.”

Anakin started, surprised by his Master’s confession.  “Why are you sorry?  I was too scared to even help you and you always tell me to release my emotions to the Force, but I couldn’t do it so I just ran away instead.  I was supposed to help you, but I was too scared!” Anakin cried.

“Padawan,” Obi-Wan responded softly, gripping Anakin’s shoulder in a way that reminded Anakin of his collapse in the training room.  He shuddered slightly.  “I didn’t mean to scare you like that.  I should have told you that I wasn’t feeling well, but I felt that I could keep it from you.  That was wrong of me, and I’m sorry,” he repeated.  “I’ll let you know if this is happening again, though they are not that often,” he admitted.  Obi-Wan sipped at the tea, made a face, and then put it down on the table next to him with a clatter.  He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples again with a quiet groan.

Anakin felt a spark of nervousness within him, but he squashed it quickly.  “I was talking to Padawan Eerin last night, and I told her something.  And she said I should talk about it with you,” Anakin said, tangling his fingers in his lap.  “I…I know you don’t like me very much, so if you don’t want me to be your padawan, I can leave, I can catch a ship somehow back to Tatooine and…I don’t know, but I don’t want to be your burden,” he rambled.

“Anakin, I thought you wanted to be a Jedi?” Obi-Wan asked, confused.

“I do, of course I do!  More than anything,” Anakin admitted.  “But if you don’t want me to I don’t think any of the other Masters like me very much, so I can find a way back to Tatooine or something.  To my mom, I mean,” he rambled.  Obi-Wan’s face was unreadable, as usual, but different.  “You didn’t even want to train me, before…” _Before Master Qui-Gon died_.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, scrunching his eyes shut briefly, as though the pain was coming back in full force again.  “This is all my fault,” he stated, opening his eyes and rubbing at them.

“Master, I—”

“Let me finish, padawan,” Obi-Wan said, leaning forward slightly so that he was eye-to-eye with his apprentice.  “I suppose I did not _appreciate_ meeting you because my master was so willing to push me away so that he could train you.  I was jealous, to be honest,” he sighed.  “But now I know better, and I am determined to train you to Knighthood.  I meant what I said earlier, Anakin Skywalker.  You will be a Jedi, I promise.”

Something warm fluttered in Anakin’s chest, something he hasn’t felt since before he said goodbye to his mom on Tatooine.  “That is so wizard,” he breathed without thinking. 

Obi-Wan chuckled again.  “I am glad you feel that way, Anakin,” he responded before standing up and moving slowly towards the kitchen.  “Get started on your homework,” he told Anakin, “I’ll see about heating up the food Bant left us.”  Anakin nodded and pulled his bag into his bedroom.

* * *

With a jerk, Obi-Wan’s eyes flew open and he gasped, sitting up almost instantly and placing his head in his hands.  All he wanted was to get a proper night of sleep, but it seemed almost impossible these days.  He was definitely dreaming of _something_ just a few seconds ago, the memory of it was already slipping away, but it was something about _revenge_.  Or was it?  He shivered, then glanced at the chrono beside his sleepcouch. It was 0300 hours, which really was not that bad, considering the fact that he was waking up earlier a few nights ago.  He looked around the room, feeling Qui-Gon’s presence more keenly than ever, and moved quickly, ignoring the slight ache in his temples, to the common room of the quarters.

He stopped by Anakin’s door, glancing in to see the boy soundly asleep, before moving to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.  Obi-Wan glanced at the windowsill in the kitchen, remembering all the plants that Qui-Gon kept on that very windowsill.  Something _twisted_ , and with a sharp gasp, he looked away, quickly pouring the tea into his mug and walking away to the living room.

He sat on the couch heavily, trying to focus only on sipping his tea and easing the aches.  The nights were the most difficult, Obi-Wan realized.  During the night, he was alone, he couldn’t distract himself with his easily-excitable padawan or all the work he had to do around the Temple.  Now it was all silent, and he was left alone to face his demons.

_“Don’t center on your anxieties, Obi-Wan,”_ the wind whispered, and Obi-Wan tightened the grip on his mug.  On previous nights, he was able to work on some new Form III katas in the salles once he found himself unable to sleep, having decided to work some more on Soresu after seeing the fallibilities of Ataru.  But he was certain that using a lightsaber right at the moment would probably land him back in the healer’s ward less than 24 hours after leaving.  That wouldn’t do.

He was definitely tired, but it was as though he physically forgot how to sleep, and now it was even more frustrating than it was before.  He simply can’t afford to get another migraine or even more sick right now.  Training Anakin is the ultimate priority, but how can he do that if he can’t even take care of himself?  He couldn’t bring himself to finish his tea, and placed the mug on the table before him.  The wind whispered to him again, telling him to find his center, to let the Force guide him…

“Stop,” he whispered harshly, pulling himself to his feet.  Just because he couldn’t work on lightsaber katas didn’t mean he couldn’t go to the Room of a Thousand Fountains and try to meditate, or just stare at the waterfall, or something.  Anything but this.  He couldn’t stand being in his quarters anyways; there were too many memories of his master and it was just too overwhelming.  He put on his robe and boots then walked to the front door and paused.

He had to confront this, whatever _this_ was, and get over it.  Anakin did not need a master who lived in the past and couldn’t handle his own grief and release it to the Force, like he should. 

“Master?”

Anakin was awake now, and was standing at his bedroom door.  Obi-Wan released a breath and turned around.  In the dim lighting, he could see that Anakin’s short hair was mussed from sleep, his short padawan braid just barely clinging together.  His left hand was a loose fist at his side, but his right hand was tightly holding onto something…something small, black, and sort of smooth…

_No._

Obi-Wan’s heart dropped to his stomach, and he stumbled.  The lingering pain behind his eyes suddenly exploded into fiery agony, and the world was immediately falling and burning.  There was a shout, and _something_ was grabbing at his arms, pulling at him.  His legs somehow managed to cooperate, and in a few moments, he was seated on the couch, Anakin staring at him concerned.

“Obi-Wan, what’s wrong?  Master?” Anakin’s eyes were shining orbs of daylight, bright and beautiful.

Obi-Wan blinked, his vision clearing and the sudden headache receding.  “Nothing, Anakin, I just…” he swallowed.  Anakin still gripped at the stone as though it were a lifeline.  “That stone, Anakin…should I even ask why you were digging through our trash?”

His apprentice blinked.  “I don’t know, I just felt that there was something important for me to find, Master,” the boy said simply, opening his palm to study the stone.  “It reminds me of…”

“Of what?” Obi-Wan asked, feeling almost a sense of despair for actually throwing the stone away when it had previously meant so much to him.

“Of Master Qui-Gon,” Anakin mumbled, looking down at his lap with a feeling of shame.  “It’s just, I found it, and I _felt_ him there, and I didn’t want it to be gone.  I’m sorry, Master,” he continued quietly.

Obi-Wan slowly took the stone from Anakin’s palm.  Its warmth was still reassuring, somehow, and he smiled softly at the familiarity of the black stone in his own palm.  “This is a river stone, Anakin.  This particular stone was Qui-Gon’s stone, once upon a time.  He gave it to me on my thirteenth birthday, and I’ve kept it with me ever since,” he explained, flipping the stone in his hand.

“Master, if you don’t mind me saying,” Anakin began, “you shouldn’t throw away every single thing that reminds you of him.  That’s not…” he paused.  “I don’t know; it just seems wrong.”

Obi-Wan breathed deeply, closing his eyes momentarily.  “I know, Anakin,” he responded, opening his eyes again.  “It was a big mistake for me to even consider throwing this stone away, Anakin, and I have you to thank for its rescue, young padawan.” 

Anakin’s smile was a bright sun in the dark of night.  “I’m glad to have helped, Master,” he said finally, then yawned.

“Most importantly, Anakin, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about Master Qui-Gon.  Or about anything, really.  Communication is one of the most important components of a Master-Padawan bond, as you should very well know,” Obi-Wan responded.

“Do you think…” Anakin paused, shifting nervously.

“What is it, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, frowning.

“Could you tell me how you met Master Qui-Gon?  Or…how you became his padawan?”  Anakin asked quickly, tangling his fingers in his lap nervously.

 Obi-Wan smiled, tightening his grip on the river stone for additional warmth.  “It’s actually a bit more interesting than you’d expect,” Obi-Wan said, finally putting the river stone back in his pocket, where it belongs.  He glanced at the chrono near the front door.  “Now, it is the middle of night, in case you haven’t noticed, Anakin, and you do have classes in the morning.  So this will have to be quick.”

“Not a problem, Master,” Anakin answered, smiling even more widely.

“Well, as you know, most initiates have to be selected as a padawan by the age of thirteen.  It was just a few weeks before my thirteenth birthday, and, well, no one showed any interest in me…”

* * *

It was almost noon at the Jedi Temple in Coruscant.

Bant raced through the halls, stopping abruptly in front of the front door of Obi-Wan’s and Anakin’s shared apartment.  When she heard from Master Che that Anakin had not showed up to any of his morning classes and neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin were responding to any comms, she volunteered to check on the master-apprentice duo.  Without much thought, she pressed a hand on the front door, fully expecting it to be locked, but the door swung open.

The apartment was completely silent.  She tiptoed into the living room, pausing at the couch.  Both Master and Padawan were curled up on the couch, fast asleep, with Anakin’s head resting on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.  She smiled at the sight, noticing that Obi-Wan was not as pale as he was the night before, and the dark smudges under his eyes have faded quite a bit.  Turning around, she exited the apartment and closed the door without making a sound.

_Mission accomplished_ , she thought to herself with a gratifying smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this was written in the span in the span of 2-3 days, with the exception of the last two scenes, which took at least 3 months. I just had so much trouble ending this, I guess. I think I had written at least 7 different endings until I decided on this one -.- Anyways, I do fully intend on revising this at some point, so please leave reviews, especially with constructive criticism! Thank you so much for reading :)


End file.
